


malady of sacrilegious mirth

by crookedspoon



Series: Tonight, No Poetry Will Serve [21]
Category: Injustice: Gods Among Us
Genre: F/F, Wordcount: 250
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5019460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine her surprise when Ollie took care of her this time.</p><p>"queening" @ femslash100's drabble cycle: kinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	malady of sacrilegious mirth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elastiqueheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elastiqueheart/gifts).



> For #20 "queening" at femslash100's drabble cycle: kinks and elastiqueheart, who suggested a couple of Harley pairings when I asked, Harley/Ollie among them.
> 
> I'm entirely too invested in Dinah/Ollie for Harley/Ollie to work alone (even with my multi-shipper proclivities), so have an AU in which Dinah dies first. Also, I realise Olivia Queen is probably a terrible idea, because she lacks the goatee!

Harley pictures Dinah like this: knees cushion-padded, spine arched and muscles taut, hair cascading down her shoulders like morning sunlight glinting off waterfalls.

Her own hair is tumbling yellow and unbound, not quite as golden or voluminous, or as long. Yet Ollie's first action is to tug the elastic bands off her plaits and pigtails, gather fistfuls at Harley's nape, and inhale the floral scent of Dinah's shampoo. Her kisses are so satiated with longing, she doesn't need to whisper "pretty bird" for it to break her heart.

Harley's not a replacement – couldn't be, not with those shoes to fill. She's an entertainer, a fool, a comfort blanket if you will; she aims to please and to amuse. Heal through laughter and delight. 

Imagine her surprise when Ollie took care of her this time, slipping readily between her thighs and tongueing her open. Harley's light-headed with pleasure, whimpering and unsteady, raking blunt nails over Ollie's scalp. Her other wrist's still obediently chained to the post beside the cot. (Sometimes Ollie forgets to uncuff her, and Harley forgets her moustache-picklock.)

(She shares her bed, but not her trust.)

"Ollieee," she whines, unable to contain herself. Her whole body _quivers_ in anticipation, and when her orgasm hits, laughter hits with it. Harley is helpless against it, giggling and shaking and fighting the tears.

"What's so funny?" Ollie asks with knitted brows that seem to ask _have you gone mad for good?_

"I still think," Harley chortles, breathless, "Qu-Qu-Quiver is the better name."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Dirge for a Joker" by Sylvia Plath.
> 
> You can still suggest pairings [here](http://crookedspoonfic.tumblr.com/post/127860828900/to-my-fellow-harley-quinn-enthusiasts). (I know, I said September. I lied.)


End file.
